


Pretend

by losthpfanficwriter (erbkaiser)



Series: Quidditch Fan League entries [28]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2019-11-17 14:25:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18100292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erbkaiser/pseuds/losthpfanficwriter
Summary: Faced with the ultimate horror, overly amorous parents, Hermione Granger must do the unthinkable and lie to her parents. But what if they call her bluff?





	Pretend

Twenty seconds. That's how long it took before Hermione Granger found her voice at the shock of walking into the living room of her home, finding her mother walking around naked. “Mum!”

Danielle Granger turned to face her, which only made matters worse as far as Hermione was concerned. “Oh, you're already here, honey? Had a nice trip?”

“Mum! You're... you're...” Hermione was spluttering while her father walked past her, having dropped her school bag (and a very disgruntled cat in a carrier) near the front door.

“Looking hot, luv,” Hermione's father practically _growled_ at her mother, neither parent seemingly concerned with their 16-year old daughter standing next to them.

“I... I... argh!” Hermione turned and ran to the stairs to her bedroom, deciding retreat was the best option for now. This was NOT what she wanted to deal with right now. An hour later someone knocked on her door. Hermione looked up from her Transfiguration Essay – no better time to start on her summer homework than right away – and went to open her door.

“Mum! Oh god, why are you naked?”

“Why not, honey? It is my own home, isn't it? Besides, your father is hardly complaining,” her mother said, nonplussed, as she let a very angry half-Kneazle enter the room. “You went upstairs in such a hurry that you left poor Crookshanks behind,” she added. “Your father will help you with your bags after dinner. Speaking of which, the table is served. Are you coming?”

“Are... are you not getting dressed?” Hermione's face was flushed, and she refused to meet her mother's eyes. It just was not right that she now knew her mother was trimmed _down there_...

“Of course not. Don't worry, honey. I'm not going to force you to strip down,” her mother said with a laugh. “Better hurry down or your father will steal all the meat!”

Hermione stared blankly as her mother turned  to leave , and she saw her mother's naked backside.  
' _It's just your mother, Hermione, get a grip. You can handle a... mid-life crisis. Just ignore it, tomorrow she'll act normal_ ,' the teen-aged witch tried to convince herself. After a quick apology to Crookshanks which was wasted as the half-Kneazle was intent on ignoring her, Hermione went downstairs... only to rush back up, her face flushed fully, as the first thing she saw upon entering the kitchen was her father. Apparently Emile Granger had joined his wife in the sudden nudism.

“Honey, aren't you hungry?” called her mother after her but got no answer.

“Let her be, dear. Teenagers, eh?” Emile quipped. “Dinner looks good... but I'm more interested in what's for dessert,” he added with a saucy wink.

Hermione rushed in to her room from where she had been waiting at the top of the stairs, not daring to wait for what the answer was. Being slightly hungry was preferable to dealing with the...  _aliens_ that had taken over her parents!

Later that night Hermione had just retired to her bed with a good book and only a bit of hunger, when she heard a strange noi s e. ' _Creak creak, boom boom_ '. The pattern repeated, get ting louder. She looked up from her book just in time to realize the wall with her desk, adjacent to her parents' bedroom, seemed to be shaking.

“What the...” she spoke aloud. She got out of the bed, fished out her wand – of course she knew as a minor she was not allowed to use magic, but it didn't hurt to be prepared – and stepped into the small hallway. She made it halfway to her parents' bedroom when she heard an unmistakable moan. Hermione let out a squeak and ran back to her own bedroom, where she proceeded to pull her pillows over her head and did her best to try to pretend not to hear her parents until she fell asleep.

–-----

Hermione wasn 't a morning person  a nd was hardly aware of her surroundings as she got out of bed just after eleven.  Yawning she went  into the upstairs bathroom at the end of the hallway. Seeing her parents share a n intimate shower, without the curtain drawn, helped her wake up in no time. Stammering something incomprehensible Hermione rushed back out, her heart beating so hard it threatened to escape from her chest, and escaped back inside her bedroom.

The dreaded knock on the door came ten minutes later. “Are you dressed?” she called out.

Her mother took that as an invitation and stepped inside... dressed. If one could call a towel wrapped around her torso dressed.

“Honey, you shouldn't feel bad about accidentally walking in on us,” she started.

“Oh god, no,” Hermione mumbled, pulling her pillow back over her face.

“You see, your father and I love each other a lot, and when two people love each other it's very natural to want to get close like this... even after twenty years of marriage,” her mother continued.

“Merlin, help me,” Hermione murmured.

“Sex is a very natural and normal thing,” Danielle Granger went on undeterred by the fact that her daughter was trying to disappear. “It all started again at our wedding anniversary dinner. Your father took me out to a fancy restaurant, then we went dancing, and when we came home he gave me a sensual massage. We made love again like we did when we first met in dental school and, well, saw no reason not to keep going.”

Hermione looked up miserably, pleading wordlessly that her mother would stop. But judging by the smile on her mother's face, that was an idle hope.

“Your father makes me so _hot_ still... it's hard to deny him when he looks at me _that_ way. And –”

“Mum! Please! Stop! By Morgana, Mother, I don't _want_ to hear that! And would you two _please_ start wearing clothes when I'm around?”

Danielle smiled at her daughter in that infuriating way mothers can. “If it makes you feel better, we'll try to remember when you're around, honey. There's nothing wrong with making love, you'll understand when you're a little older and have a boyfriend of your own.”

That was  _ it _ , Hermione decided. Defiantly looking her mother in the eye, she declared: “I  _ do _ have a boyfriend. I ' m  _ not _ a little girl anymore.”

“Oh do you?” The corners of her mouth rose in a smile. “How sweet, my little Hermione has her first boyfriend. Have you two held hands yet?”

Hermione started to fume. “Please, we've gone  _ far _ beyond that. I ' m not a little girl; I ' m a young  _ woman _ .”

“Well, that changes things, honey. Invite him over, he can stay as long as he likes... your father and I would love to meet the _man_ that _made a woman out of you_ ,” her mother teased before leaving.

“Oh Crookshanks... she makes me so mad,” Hermione sighed. Crookshanks was not impressed.

Following an invigorating shower, Hermione hesitatingly made her way downstairs and found her parents wearing bath robes. Half open bath robes, in her mother's case.

“Argh! Mum, dad, I'm going to the library. I'll be back around dinner... please, please for the love of all that's holy, remember to put on some damn clothes,” the frustrated young witch yelled. She quickly put on outdoor clothes and dashed out. Perhaps a day spent inspecting what new books the local library had would calm her down... at this rate she'd turn into more of a nervous wreck than Professor Trelawny by the week's end.

Hours later she returned carrying a bag filled with books. She hesitated before opening the door, but when she finally did, she was met by the sight of her father,  bathrobe closed , sitting in a living room chair watching television. Her hopes  that things were normalizing just a little  were confirmed as her mother stepped out of the kitchen, also  with her robe fully closed , and greeted her.  
' _ Perhaps today will turn out well after all, _ ' Hermione thought as she brought her books up stairs .

Dinner was a normal affair as well and she retired to bed, pleased... until she heard her parents go to bed, and her reading was disturbed by creaking bedsprings, a shaking wall as a headboard was repeatedly slammed into it, and her mother's surprisingly vulgar voice.

Hermione eventually went to sleep mortified at sharing a house with two sex fiends.

– **\-------**

“Can't you two keep it down? You're going at it like rabbits!” Hermione yelled through her parents' door. The noises stopped and her mother came out, wearing a bathrobe that could not hide she was flushed and her hair was in disarray.

“Honey, I thought you were asleep?”

“I _was_ , until two sex fiends decided to almost literally shake me out of bed.”

“Watch your tone, young lady. It is none of your business what your father and I do in our own room,” her mother chided her.

“Oh? So if I were to do the same with my boyfriend and keep _you_ awake?” Hermione blurted out.

“You expect me to believe that you would? Well, be my guest,” her mother replied, to her shock. “Have you even invited him over yet?”

Getting no reply, she smirked. “I thought not... here,” she said, handing her daughter a small packet.

Mortified at getting caught in her bluff Hermione was looking down as she opened it, finding... “Ear plugs?!”

“Good night, honey,” her mother dead-panned as she went back inside.

Ear plugs only helped a little.

– **\------**

The rest of the week continued the pattern, and  she started to  really  regret not taking up Ron's invitation to once again spend the summer  with the Weasleys.

–---------

“Mum? I need to go to Diagon Alley today,” Hermione stated at breakfast. She was grumpy from lack of sleep _for obvious reasons_.

“The clinic closes at noon, honey, I'm not sure if we can drive you after. Can't it wait until the weekend?” her mother asked, already standing by the door to leave.

“I suppose,” Hermione said, pouting.

“Don't fret, dear. You can get an ice-cream and we can stop by the book shop,” her mother tried to appease her.

“Mum! I'm not a little girl!”

“Oh right, I forgot. You're a _young woman with a boyfriend_ ,” her mother teased. “Have you invited him over yet?”

“I will, okay?” Hermione answered, annoyed.

“Good. Invite him over to stay for the weekend, then you two can go on a little date...”

Hermione fumed a t her mothe r , only to panic when she realised what she had said. “Oh, Merlin... now I  _have_ to invite Harry...”  
She  rushed upstairs to find a notebook.

' _ Let's see... Harry said his aunt and uncle were the Dursleys, and they lived in... Little Whinging? _ ' Hermione triumphantly closed the little notebook she wrote down all her thoughts and facts on Harry in, ignoring that the next page had several variations of ' _ Mrs Hermione J. Potter _ ' circled with hearts, written shortly after  she'd returned home and realised she had almost lost  him at the Ministry.

' _ Now that I have a name and town, it should be easy to track the Dursleys down, _ ' she thought as she began to call information services.

Thirty minutes later she had a phone number for one Vernon Dursley. Hermione called it immediately.

“Petunia Dursley speaking,” a voice came through the telephone as it was picked up.

“Err, hello Mrs. Dursley, this is Hermione Granger,” the brunette witch started. Harry's aunt sounded... annoyed.

“Granger? I don't know any Grangers. Why are you calling?” Petunia asked.

“Please, Mrs. Dursley, I'm a friend of Harry's and –”

Hermione stared, struck dumb, as the connection broke. Surely she hadn't?

She called the number again. It ringed several times before someone picked up again. “Mrs. Dursley? Please, I –”

“You _freaks_ should leave us decent folk alone! It's bad enough the boy is too lazy to even do his normal chores this summer, but now you harass us over the phone? Stop calling!” Mrs. Dursley yelled through the receiver, before slamming the phone down again.

' _ That could have gone better, _ ' Hermione thought, unknowingly nibbling her lower lip.  So the phone was no help.  She was still mulling over ideas when her parents returned home. Much later that night Hermione found that using both a pillow and ear plugs drowned out most, but not all, of her parents' enthusiastic activities. Th e half hour  before she fell asleep lasted for an eternity, though.

–-------

Hermione grumpily got out of bed and pulled her shift over her head, leaving her clad only in knickers. She turned to watch out her window while stretching a bit to work out the kinks from a bad night's sleep when she heard her door open.  
“Mum, have you–”

It wasn't her mother, instead it was a black-haired teenaged boy she knew very well. His mouth dropped open as he stared at her, while a deep blush crept up to his ears.

For a moment both just stood there, frozen, until a voice came up from downstairs:

“Honey? Your boyfriend came over so I sent him up, okay?”

“Ha– Harry? What are you doing here?” Hermione blinked, was she still dreaming?

“You're... you're...”

“I'm what?” Just then she realised her state of undress. “Harry! Get out, get out!” she yelled, bringing her hands up to cover herself.

Stumbling over his own feet Harry rushed out of her bedroom, leaving a heavily flushed Hermione behind.

–-----

“I can't believe you sent him up without warning me!” Hermione accused her mother. She had found her in the kitchen, calmly drinking a cup of tea while Harry sat at the same table, staring down.

“Why not, honey? Surely he has seen you before? Weren't you adamant about being a _young woman_ now?” Her mother smirked.

“Aagh! Not the point!” Hermione stamped her feet, before rounding on Harry. “And you! What are you _doing_ here?”

Not meeting her face, Harry mumbled something incomprehensible.

“He showed up just after this lovely owl,” Hermione's mother interrupted, indicating the beautiful white owl sitting on top of the kitchen cabinet. “It was quite a surprise when she flew in, only to be followed directly by _your boyfriend_ ringing the doorbell.” A smirk re-appeared on her face. “Care to introduce us, Hermione dear?”

“Oh, Merlin... mum, Harry. Harry, mum. You met three years ago at Flourish and Blotts,” Hermione said, fighting a blush.

“Ah yes... I thought that was his name. He was quite insistent on seeing you as soon as he arrived so we didn't speak before... and whatever you did to him upstairs seems to have made him speechless. Nice to see you again, Harry.”

Harry remained silent.

“Mum, Harry and I are going to chat _in private_ , okay? Why don't you just leave for work early?” Hermione proposed, nay, demanded.

“Sure, honey,” her mother said, sounding just a little too pleased with herself. “Don't do anything your father and I wouldn't do. And since I'm too young to be a grandmother: the condoms are in the bathroom cabinet, okay?”

“Condoms?” Harry looked up for the first time since Hermione came downstairs, meeting her gaze. Their blushes were both Weasley red in intensity.

“Well of course. I'm not ready to be a grandmother just yet,” Hermione's mother answered as she got up to leave. “Have fun kids, and try not to ruin any furniture, okay?”

“Bye, mum,” Hermione said with a clipped tone, waiting until she had left.

“Err... Hermione, why does you mum think I'm your boyfriend?” Harry said after a long uncomfortable silence.

“Harry... please... you don't know what I've been going through this week. Can you pretend, just for me?”

“I... I guess. You're not in any danger, are you?” He sounded and looked tense.

“No, definitely not,” Hermione said, causing Harry to relax. “It's just... well... my parents.”

“I don't understand.”

She explained her past week, in detail. At the end, Harry seemed to turn green.

“What?”

“It's just... I imagined the Dursleys walking around naked... or doing _that_.”

“Oh, Harry... ewwww...” She rushed to hug him. For a moment they stared in each other's faces, and Hermione felt the blush that had just started to recede return. Hastily she broke off the hug.

“Right... anyway... so you understand then? Why we have to pretend to be... dating?”

“What, do we have to kiss?” Harry surprised himself again by asking, wincing as his voice chose that moment to break.

Hermione was silent at that. “I... I suppose we should,” she said. “To keep up the ruse, that's all!” she quickly added.

“Oh. Right. Of course,” Harry agreed with her. Finally drumming up enough courage, he looked her in the eyes.

' _How come I never realized how pretty she is before? The way her nose has that slight lift to it, her big brown eyes... her soft, moist lips that she_ _keeps_ _nibbling on..._ '

“Harry? Can you kiss me now, please?” Hermione said in a small voice.

Harry embraced her and his lips awkwardly mashed against hers. He had his eyes shut as he tried to force their mouths together, finally Harry broke the kiss when he needed to breathe.

“Oh... oh wow. You... you just kissed me,” Hermione stated, flushed all over, and very much out of breath. “Harry, why did you stop?”

“Couldn't breathe,” Harry admitted.

“Was... was that the first time you initiated a kiss?”

“Yes... was I that bad?” Harry sounded dejected.

“No! No, you did great... great...” she licked her lips subconsciously and blushed even deeper. “Just... keep your eyes open, and breathe through your nose? Maybe?”

He quickly realized that breathing through the nose made it possible to continue kissing and breathing at the same time.

Somehow, having to pretend to be dating didn't seem like a bad idea at all to the pair.


End file.
